With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.
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And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair, and jewelled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern. As I wander down
The garden paths.
HEX: #680C35
RGB: 104 12 53
RGB: 104 12 53
HEX: #F75D43
RGB: 247 93 67
RGB: 247 93 67
HEX: #906000
RGB: 144 96 0
RGB: 144 96 0
HEX: #F89753
RGB: 248 151 83
RGB: 248 151 83
HEX: #D5D0A6
RGB: 213 208 166
RGB: 213 208 166
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
